She hoped she concealed that, but perhaps not, for he said, “Sit down,” and led her to a sofa. Ariana liked his caring attentions all too much.
Ethel would have stood behind, but Ariana patted the seat beside her and asked her to sit there. She needed her friend and stalwart support, but also she didn’t want Kynaston sitting beside her. She’d give herself away and she couldn’t bear that, but more to the point, it would toss fuel on the fire. People might think that indeed they’d been up to no good in that cellar.
He returned to standing beside the fire and said, “I visited the newspaper. There will be a retraction.”
“But the harm is done,” Lady Jerome pointed out.
Lady Langton protested. “We must be more positive, Julia.”
“We must face facts,” Lady Jerome countered. “You always did live with your head in the clouds, Clarinda.”
“Ladies.” Kynaston’s voice cut through. “If you will assure all you encounter that there’s nothing to the tale, it will blow over.”
“Madness,” snapped Lady Cawle. “At such a dull time of year, fresh blood will stir the hunt, and I gather you can’t deny being in that demmed cellar.”
“With my maid,” Ariana pointed out.
Her mother shook her head. “We must leave Town.”
“I won’t run.”
“Then you’d best marry him,” said Lady Cawle.
Ariana’s heart leapt, but she was still sane enough to be furious. “That’s what you’ve been wanting all along, isn’t it? Didyousend that information to the papers?”
The visitors gasped and Ariana’s mother went pale, but Lady Cawle merely curled her lip. “I would be amused if not for your low opinion of me, gel. If I had wanted to spread a scandalous story, it would be in a finer publication.”
“You do want me to marry your nephew, though, don’t you?”
“In a mild way. Other men would have suited you.”
Kynaston broke in again. “There is no question of marriage here. It would only imply that the story was true.”
“Exactly,” Ariana said. “As would fleeing Town. We must carry on as usual.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Mrs. Scott, looking distinctly uneasy.
But Lady Jerome raised her chin. “I shall support you, Lady Ariana.”
Lady Cawle smiled at her. “Then you, ma’am, will be my guest in my theater box tonight. Mrs. Scott, I’m sure Clarinda can depend upon you scotching the story on every occasion?”
Lady Jerome flushed with gratification, Mrs. Scott with awareness of the snub. As Kynaston had said, it wasn’t wise to displease Lady Cawle.
Lady Cawle turned her guns on her nephew. “You will be with us at the theater, looking, if you please, bored rather than like a vengeful god. Bring Phyllis.”
“No,” Ariana protested. “Don’t embroil her in this.”
“Her presence will be a declaration of innocence. Well?” Lady Cawle asked Kynaston.
His vengeful-god demeanor made it hard to tell how he felt, but he said, “If she’s willing to attend, she may. For now, I’m going to visit my lawyer in order to crush that rag altogether. And I have someone else to deal with.”
With a curt nod to the company, he strode out, leaving a singe of violence like the acrid smell that hung after a fireworks display.
Ariana shivered slightly and the other ladies were silent, but then the spell broke and she rose to pursue him. She ran downstairs and caught him as he was taking his umbrella from the impassive footman.
She tried to sound casual as she said, “A word with you before you leave, my lord.”
He almost refused, but then followed her into the dining room. Once inside, she left the door open, but moved as far from it as possible.
